Some Say
by Animegirl1129
Summary: Future fic inspired by Rascal Flatts' 'Some Say'. NickGreg.


Some Say

**_Future fic inspired by Rascal Flatts' song 'Some Say' - which doesn't belong to me. Just like CSI doesn't. Hope you like!_**

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Not surprisingly, Greg Sanders has a few quirks. One of Nick's personal favorite's, one very few people have ever been privy to, is the fact that he sings in the shower. And, he sings pretty well. Contrary to any expected belief, the man does not sound like a herd of wounded cows. He's a decent singer, though his usual playlist often includes Marilyn Manson, Metallica, Black Flag, and several other artists that the Texan would rather blow his own head off than listen to.

But, sometimes, today being one of those few exceptions, he'll have Nick's playlist playing from the iPod shower radio sitting on the counter.

Nick can hear the music playing when he walks in the front door, just getting off shift, and he recognizes the song immediately.

"Some say we'll never get it off the ground. Some say we'll never make it out of town. That someday we'll end up a world apart. And some say we're a couple of crazy kids. And some say that's exactly what they did. And I say you got to go with your heart. And baby, look where we are."

He can't make out the words until he's halfway up the steps, and by then he's smiling ear to ear and stripping off his t-shirt.

"There's that home, the one they said we'd never share. And just close your eyes."

The next verse begins and he's at their bedroom door, kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks as he goes.

"There's the picket fence, there's our mailbox. Puppy on the porch and roses up the walk. Shiny minivan, kids in every seat. Someday we'll look back and say it wasn't just a dream." Greg's voice combined with the singer's is still emanating from the master bathroom attached to their room.

Now, Nick's shedding his jeans and boxers and climbing into the shower behind Greg, though he doesn't make a sound doing so.

"Some say we'll never get it off the ground. Some say we'll never make it out of town. That someday we'll end up a world apart. And some say we're a couple of crazy kids. And some say that's exactly what they did. And I say you got to go with your heart. And baby, look where we are." The chorus repeats again after that and just as Greg starts singing along to that, the Texan wraps his arms around his lover, pulling the younger man's back flush to his.

He feels Greg relax into the familiar position and presses a kiss to the back of Greg's neck, one hand settled on the man's hip and the other covering Greg's. "Hey, baby."

"Trying to sneak up on me, Stokes?" The younger teases, sliding an arm around the back of Nick's head to pull him down for a kiss.

"Maybe. Or perhaps I just didn't want to interrupt the concert." Nick grins, noting, as the song starts again, that it's on repeat. "You like this one, huh?"

Greg nods. "Yeah, whoever would've guessed I'd be listening to Rascal Flatts? Back when I was in college I would have said it was a sign of the apocalypse or something." He laughed, turning to face his lover, arms draped around the other's neck.

The older man laughs. "Maybe we should go to a concert sometime." He moved both of his hands to Greg's hips, moving around the shower as if they were dancing to the music.

"And do what with the kids?" Greg questions, referring to their three children, Tyler and Asher, both six and Kaylie, four.

"They could come, too." Nick supplies. "See, as opposed to Manson concerts, as much fun as the one you took me to that one time was…" He shudders at the thought. "Country singers are good for all ages."

Greg smiles, resting his head against Nick's shoulder. "Sounds like a good idea."

"I'm glad. Because, I might have already bought the tickets."

The younger man raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Nick bits his lip. "Yeah, uh, last time I caught you listening to this. Which was, when, last week? I got five tickets. They were supposed to be a surprise, you know, for our anniversary." He smiles sheepishly, having never been able to resist giving surprises away to his lover. "You foiled my plan again."

"Singing in the shower. Never fails."

"Why do I put up with you?" Nick teases, running his fingers through Greg's dripping hair.

The younger man laughs, "You've done so for fifteen years now, must be some reason. Beyond my good looks and all."

Nick rolls his eyes. "Your modesty, maybe?"

They share another kiss before Greg climbs out of the shower. "I have to go pick up Kay. I'll grab the boys from school on the way home, and the dogs from the vet, too." he turns the volume up on the iPod. "Enjoy your shower."

And, as Greg walks out the front door a few moments later, dressed and with the keys in hand, he hears the Texan singing, too.

"There's that star, the one they said we'd never reach. And just close your eyes. There's the missing moon, there's the Milky Way. Heaven's straight ahead, we'll be there today. Rainbows right and left, sunshine everywhere. If it couldn't be baby, how did we get there? Some say we'll never get it off the ground. Some say we'll never make it out of town. That someday we'll end up a world apart. And some say we're a couple of crazy kids. And some say that's exactly what they did. And I say you got to go with your heart. And baby, look where we are."

People said things like that about them, some time ago, but it's not a dream for them anymore, either, Greg thinks, smiling as he climbs into their car.


End file.
